log; ongoing

[atoner.livejournal.com]

When; March 25th, 8:00 PM
Rating; Uhhhhhhh. PG to PG-13?
Characters; Angel, Jamie Madrox (crackwise), and Julio Richter (alittlecredit)
Summary; Angel has a job interview.
Log;

Moving after dark like this is frustrating. The City, as a whole, restricts him, reminding him of the limitations that he may not have in another situation. When it comes to Los Angeles, he knows the place better than the back of his hand, especially after the trials he’s faced in dealing with it in the past years of his life. It meant he could figure out movement even beneath the light of the sun (or avoiding it, as it had been). The City, however, does not afford him these same familiarities and opportunities. It doesn’t even provide him with the same pleasures as Wolfram & Hart once did; he doesn’t think it’s much of a trade off, either. There were people messing with him then, and there’s people—overpowered Deities—messing with him now. In his normal state of mind, he’d suggest that he and Wesley look up the literature regarding these circumstances and perform a quick way around it all.

But this isn’t a normal situation. After all, he doesn’t even have a job. Angel’s gone from Champion to peon, so to speak—and he can’t even prove how awesome he is by taming a dragon. (And proceeding to name it after an almost-ex-girlfriend.)

Still, he steps out of his humble abode all the same, feet hitting the pavement as he walks through the night. He can hear the ticking, the faint sound reminding him of the fact that time itself is constantly going by, despite being absolutely standstill here. As he passes by the occasional citizen, he allows for the sound to slip away, returning with a few more steps and an absence of a warm body. His mind wanders as he walks. There are still a few photographs sticking out of bushes, but he doesn’t allow curiosity to get the best of him. Maybe, somewhere in the City, there are a few pictures that someone has of him, tucked away for whatever purposes, but he hasn’t found them himself. And sure enough, another curse would care for that.

The lack of control is frustrating. The lack of direction is frustrating for Angel; indeed, that’s the worst part of all this. He has to get a job; he has to go through an interview, all to make himself less idle. And while he’s grateful for the opportunity, it’s frustrating all the same. He’s even good at ignoring someone messing with him constantly when he’s not idle. Angel hopes this will be a beneficial opportunity. Hell, he just hopes he doesn’t muck it up, which some bemused part of him lingers on. It’s a funny, unfamiliar feeling. Strangely, it’s not all that unwelcome.

Angel stops at Building 11, quieting his thoughts as he walks up to the door as Wesley indicated. He hopes that someone’s in there to invite him inside, or else this may prove to be a little awkward. After all, as far as he can see, this is still a residence, despite its business leanings. Hoping for the best, he knocks in the door a few times and then steps back, sliding his hands into his pockets and glancing to his left to observe the surroundings of the area under the later hours.

Comments

[alittlecredit.livejournal.com]

Jamie Madrox had told Rictor that someone would be stopping by for an interview sometime soon; he just hadn't said how soon, and whatever sometime meant (maybe he would have said more if they hadn't just had a heated argument and were on more than just passive-aggressive speaking terms). Apparently sometime meant this moment right now, because he's pretty sure that anyone else who needed them would have just walked their rude butts right in without knocking. It's nice to think that this person might have manners. Not that Ric was high on the manners scale himself, but he appreciated someone with class like anyone else, in the same way a crap artist admires beautiful art.

He shouts, "Be there in ten seconds!," before tossing the beer bottle he'd been nursing into the sink and tossing on a shirt that wasn't just a wifebeater, for appearance's sake. Because way to present yourself as someone other people want to have to work with, Rictor.

Sliding to the door, he peers through the peephole before opening it-- it isn't locked and usually isn't. Maybe because they're both used to Layla knowing whether or not they're going to get robbed any given day.

"Hey. Are you here for Madrox?"

[atoner.livejournal.com]

Had Angel known that he was immediately viewed with "class" because of his restrictions, he may have been amused. Of course, it isn't like he would have foregone knocking if he could have barged in; there were only a few people whose apartments he'd lurk in silently, waiting for the arrival of its occupants. That short list certainly doesn't include any potential employers.

Having heard the call from inside, Angel takes a step closer, tugs a hand out of his pocket to press against the wall just outside the door, and considers his reply. Nothing fancy, but to the point. Better to let them know right off who they're dealing with, he rationalizes. "Yeah, that's me. I'm Angel." He pauses then, leaning back and putting a little pressure onto the heels of his feet. "I'm not sure if there's a lobby or anything, but either way ... I need to be invited in."

Truthfully, he doesn't expect that there's a lobby on the inside. He's done the casual investigative service before, and given its location, he doesn't think there's much. Still, Angel doesn't want the guy on the other side to open the door and turn away, not understanding just what he's done.

[alittlecredit.livejournal.com]

"You need to-- you really don't. Is it some kind of religious thing?"

He's nosy by nature, but still, Rictor's first inclination about an interview after dark isn't that Angel is a vampire, although he's met vampires before, a few kinds of them. His first inclination is just that Jamie was too busy during the day, which is typically true-- and is right now. So he gives the guy a welcoming nod and wow, he's kind of tall and wow, he's kind of serious are his first impressions.

Standing aside, he waves Angel in, tucking up the sleeves of the button-down he threw on. "Come on in. Sorry this isn't like a real businessfront or anything. It's just a repurposed apartment, but hell, when you can barely afford leather office chairs for the offices you don't really complain about looking like amateurs."

He steps away a little to point to a door beside the kitchen. The what used to be a bedroom which is now Jamie's office.

"He'll be in in a few. Let me send him a text; he was working a job earlier."

[atoner.livejournal.com]

"Maybe somewhere," Angel manages to slip in before stepping inside of the apartment. He figures he'll answer the rest in a moment. Being inside, though, reminds him of the early days. It reminds him of sitting around with Doyle and Cordelia, plotting how they would end up filming a commercial. Something tells him, from the way Rictor's buttoning up his sleeves and looks like he just pulled himself together, that they haven't broached the subject of (potentially failed) commercials yet. Or maybe they just don't have their spokesperson for that just yet.

Absorbing the similarities is only half of being here, though, and he doesn't want to seem as if he lacks courtesy. Socialization is something he's better at now (or he's sure, if Cordelia were here, he'd say as much), and he can beat some habits. "I don't mind how anything is, either. I've been here. The little bit of money, the investigations ..." He realizes he's not sure how detailed the résumé was that Wesley sent off for him, but doubts that it includes these small details. "Well, I figure Jamie will hear about that."

Angel halts the awkward observation of the place and moves toward the door of Jamie's office, stopping just before it to add, "It's ... not religion, by the way. I'm a vampire," before turning the knob of the door to the office.

[alittlecredit.livejournal.com]

He crosses one arm over his chest, sending a note on his phone to Jamie to get his ass back ASAP, because Rictor isn't particularly qualified to hire or fire for any number or reasons, and because he doesn't like being put in that kind of a position anyway. Leadership is a quality he doesn't deal well with. He raises his brows suddenly when Angel says something about being a vampire. His head follows his brows, and he stares at the man with an expression somewhere between confusion and startlement.

"You're a..."

He never quite finishes his statement, and instead shoves his phone in the back pocket of his jeans.

"I mean, there's nothing wrong with that. We're about as equal opportunity employer as you get. So if you don't have a problem with it I'm sure Madrox won't."

But it is kind of awkward. The topic was broached in the same way as a train wrecks, in Rictor's mind anyway.

"...caaaaaan I get you something to drink while you wait? Do you drink stuff? I mean, stuff that's not blood. Unless you're a psychic vampire and don't do that?"

[atoner.livejournal.com]

"I don't. I mean, I wouldn't be here if I did." Long stories explaining why he's a good vampire could easily go here, but he understands the need for normalcy. In his world, an investigative service such as this one would be trying their hardest to get him in their office, to get him in there for an interview—then again, in his world, he was heralded as a hero. He's the one who brought Hell forth but managed to get rid of it. In his world, people probably wouldn't give a damn if he actually had any skills. It's different here. That same, unfamiliar feeling lurched up inside him again; it's still rather nice.

"And—I can, but it doesn't really do anything for me unless it's blood." Angel recalls the time on the private plane when he and Spike attempted to get drunk, and the annoyance that filled the both of them as a result of their futile attempt. "But thanks for offering."

[crackwise]

The first reaction Jamie has upon feeling his phone vibrate is one of exasperation, wondering if it's Rictor again, paranoid over the possibility of Jamie packing up and blowing the joint, a threat which admittedly, has been very real and even acted upon at various times in the City. Jamie Madrox isn't really the type of person who responds well to smothering, not usually, because when one doesn't really stand up for themselves, smothering just acts as the like end of a magnet, pushing Jamie just out of reach. An actual glance at the text, however, tells Jamie that the interviewee has made it to the office--meaning that Jamie should probably start heading back. Fashionably late and dramatic entrances are his modus operandi, and either way it'll be good to see how Angel responds to the slight tardiness, likely to become a habit that the man will have to grow accustomed to, should he join X-Factor.

Most bets right now are on yes, even without having interviewed the guy.

He pulls a folded up copy of Angel's resume out of his jacket pocket as he enters the apartment, nothing too surprising on the sheet before he then looks up, spotting Rictor first, then their quiet guest. The honor of the first quip goes to Angel.

"You'd be better off trying to sweet-talk Claire into getting you a spot on the team. Rictor's just bitter--and the earlier you get used to that, the better," Jamie interjects, stuffing the resume back into his pocket.

[atoner.livejournal.com]

The sound of the newcomer doesn't startle Angel. Given everything he's gone through, he can't afford to be easily surprised by someone walking in, especially someone they were expecting. He turns toward him and raises his eyebrows, making that the only recognition of the statement. That is, at the moment. Finding the right words to quip back with will take a moment; he may not be surprised, but there are some things Angel will never be perfect at. And being anything but a master of being tall, dark, and brooding is one of them, though he's gotten better.

Which, really, just shortens the reaction time.

"He didn't seem too bad," he remarks, raising his shoulders and lowering them after a beat. "And I can't judge bitter, either." He delivers the latter statement in a softer tone, as if it doesn't matter.

[crackwise]

Underwhelmed is the sentiment that Jamie immediately recognizes in the newcomer, the subdued reaction, albeit not accompanied with the level of wittiness that Jamie likes to play off of. This character--Angel, and how ironic of a name that is--won't be easy for Jamie to bounce jokes off of, and in that sense, the man already acknowledges Angel as someone to more or less avoid unless necessary for a case. Then again, perhaps the relief that Angel will afford Jamie is less in the form of witty banter and more along the lines of comedic timing, which Jamie would appreciate just as much, if not more. Unfortunately for the both of them, this train of thought isn't one that will get Jamie much of anywhere for the interview.

Not that there's too much that Jamie wants to ask anyway.

"While Rictor's getting us some water," Jamie replies, ushering the other man into the office and deciding to avoid the point about bitterness, about judging such sentiment, until if or when it can actually accomplish something substantial. After all, a lot of all that stuff is written on the resume. Dealing with the gates and the like--and even if Jamie doesn't know exactly how it might feel, he gets the feeling that he can empathize with just about anything.

"While he gets us water, I just want to know how exactly you want to join this time." He gestures towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Tell me whatever you think I need to know that isn't on this resume of yours."